Dualität
by Yopu is Crying
Summary: Duality- an instance of contrast between two concepts or aspects. Yuka was the falling stars, bright and beautiful, but ultimately fleeting. Obito was the rising sun, a blinding illumination, a beacon of hope and clarity. Can two people of such different natures coexist together, or will they cancel each other out? (High school AU)
1. Two Negatives Equal A Positive

**_TW:_** _This story is going to contain a lot of material dealing with depression, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. If you can't stomach these kinds of stories or it could possibly trigger you then turn back **now**_ _. If you decide to continue reading then just know that this is mostly my own way of coping and working through my own problems, so don't judge too harshly, okay? I'll change the rating if I get enough complaints about it, but honestly I think T is just fine since I know that plenty teens are obviously mature enough if they're dealing with any of the above mentioned. I think that's all I've got to say on the matter. Carry on. -Yopū_

* * *

A scene of blood isn't something that most people would consider peaceful, and indefinitely so if it is their own.

To Yuka, though, it caused a shallow well of calmness within her. She stared at the freshly skinned knee with dull grey eyes. It wasn't a big scrape, barely enough to even draw blood, but there it was nonetheless. Small and angry, crimson droplets oozed from the tiny wound. The shine of the light catching on the liquid made it appear brighter, and the more it pooled on her slightly bent knee the more it seemed to shine. Yuka was utterly captivated by the sight. Any of her previous thoughts, however dreary they were, became muted at the image of strange tranquility.

But as the pain in her knee subsided, then her thoughts came back roaring with the fierceness of the ignored. It was just like her to trip over something she left lying in the hallway. Of all thing that had to of been the most perfectly easiest of them to avoid, she had tripped over her backpack. A big, lumpy item; _easily_ seen from either end of the hallway. Yet she had paraded around and botched it like a drunkard. Typical. Each word echoing in her head sounded like an eery repetition of her mother.

She flinched and automatically mumbled an apology to an empty hallway. Slowly, Yuka pulled herself up off the ground and smoothed out the navy pleated skirt, a stark contrast to her pale legs. Her right one had developed what looked like a vibrant rash with peeling skin, the little beads of blood disappearing back into her body with the folding of her skin. Absently, she walked back the way she had come from and into a small bathroom on the left hand side. She stepped over discarded clothes and towels, her actions robotic as she reached for the sliding mirror to grab a plain bandaid behind it. Yuka hardly even blinked as she quickly snatched a packet and tore it open, placing it gingerly on her knee.

She never even bothered to clean it.

As she closed the mirror, her somber gaze caught that of her reflection. Yuka blinked and took a moment to study her appearance. Her hair reminded her of cornsilk, pale and thin with the only volume coming from the natural waviness. It was let down, the most common and simplistic of styles that didn't scream for attention. The only hair out of place was a small curl she had never been able to rid herself of at the top of her head. Her small face was complemented with an equally small mouth and nose, with large slate grey eyes and thin eyebrows completing a portrait of perfection. The skin tone on her face was slightly brighter than the rest of her body, a look of perfect health if she were to use exact wording. It was just makeup, as she knew with a tinge of bitterness, hiding away the unhealthy pallor and dark rings underneath her eyes.

Deeming her appearance worthy, she finished shutting the mirror and turned away.

Yuka padded down the colorless hallway once more and retrieved her knocked over backpack. It was plain, the way she preferred, and it went no where else except for where it belonged: On her back. With nothing left to detain her in this ordinary, monotonous place, she made for the door. Just before stepping out she slipped into black flats. Outside the early morning light caressed her skin and clothes and brought along a faint sense of heat.

All Yuka felt was the overbearing weight of a false hope.

 **[- = -]**

Navy stockings slid into pristine white shoes. Yuka did her best to avoid staring at the ground, an irresistible urge to marr the footwear in some way building pressure at the base of her skull. She bid her black flats farewell by shutting the small locker door on them and turning to leave, occasionally knocking the tips of her feet against the ground to get more comfortable in the different shoes.

Her gaze remained locked forward, not even really taking in her surroundings. Yuka moved purely on memory alone. Nothing was important enough for her to even want to look around. Not the way the light shined through the windows and casted patterns on the floor. Not the occasional vending machine to tempt her into consuming its already far too expensive products. Not even a glance was spared for the groups of chattering, giggling, happy friends oddly clustered and dispersed everywhere.

To Yuka, the only thing important was making it up to the second floor and into her seat before the hordes arrived.

She must always be on time, always get the best grades, and always remain above the rest. It was really her mother's way of saying: Always be early, always be at the top of the class, and most of all _always_ remember that _she_ was above everyone. Despite living up to her mother's expectations to the best of her abilities and then some, she somehow always managed to fall short anyways. She wasn't ever early enough, even though she got up there in the top scores it wasn't _the_ top score, and the farthest she would ever attempt at superiority was being class rep. Her ideals of perfection would never match up with her mother's.

Her hand was on the door handle before she even realized it, letting herself into the silent classroom. She took her seat in the front row on the left hand side, one spot away from one of three big windows. Yuka quietly removed a workbook from her bag, several worksheets of homework sticking out of them. She had spent a good majority of the night finishing them off and saved barely any time for her own personal agenda of sleep. Flipping it to the first worksheet, she began to pour over her answers with tired but fresh eyes.

She was already impatient, and wished class would begin sooner.

 **[- = -]**

Fingers dance gracefully over black and white keys, memory of time consuming practice and old, crusting ambition being the backbone of her posture. The music room was always, almost rather surprisingly, empty during lunch. Not that Yuka minded in the least, in fact she preferred it that way, as it was the perfect place to escape to. From both the people and herself.

Ever since she was a child she had been encouraged to play the piano. Her father had done it, as had his father, and her mother had dabbled in her own youth. The skill had been held in such high-esteem then as an art, and Yuka had gladly taken to it. But over the years, as she had shown such academic growth and her own form of maturity, it had become nothing more than just an achievement to add to an ever growing resume of solid perfection. As her mother had said, playing the piano adds to her character and shows her to be undeniably capable. At the time it had meant something, but now she wasn't so sure she even had a character to be speaking of, especially since her little brother had come into the picture.

Yet Yuka never stopped practicing the instrument. Whenever her fingers touched the smooth keys the notes would always crowd out her other thoughts, make her forget herself. She liked the freedom that came with playing music on the piano. The feelings that she always played hide-and-seek with came out on display, and because of it she finally felt like she was being honest about herself _with_ herself. Even the happiest of songs could reflect the hollowness she felt day after day and Yuka found it to be like untethering something naturally meant to float. Perhaps it was like letting a balloon go.

But eventually even a balloon must either deflate, or pop.

The final key, a high D sharp, faded into silence. Yuka's hands fell limply off the keys and hit the bench with a dull thump. Occasionally that balloon would simply be tied to a rock and dragged further down.

Yuka stood up, her whole body feeling numb. Mindlessly, she walked over to the corner of the room that harbored cupboards and closets. A large window, covered by a medium sized wooden plank in the middle, was partially open. She stood in front of it momentarily to feel the warm spring breeze flutter through. Normally people dedicated this kind of air to sensations of peace and calmness, of hope and clarity, but for Yuka it meant nothing. A spring breeze carried only false promises of better times.

She backed away from the window and knelt next to the nearest closet. There was a thin space between it and the wall, and it was here that she stuck her fingers and groped blindly for an object. Yuka stopped when the tips of her nails brushed against something hard. With a slight nudge and a wiggle she brought the item closer, pulling it out of hiding.

The shard of glass glinted wickedly in the dim light of the shadowed corner. Yuka turned it over and over in her hands, meticulously studying the edges. Last week someone had thrown a rock at the window hard enough to make a hole. Yuka had been there to help clean up the mess, and as she watched the janitors throw away the glass she felt it such a waste.

She quit twirling the glass around and simply stared at it, at a part of her own translucent reflection.

Oftentimes she wondered how it would feel to cut herself on glass. She wondered if it would hurt more than a non-serrated edge. But most of all she wondered if she could capture that sense of peace yet again. Her mind flashed briefly to this morning, how as the blood left her body, so did her tension and horrid thoughts and emotions.

Yuka had never cut herself intentionally, everything being the result of a careless accident, but the thought was never far off. She kept a few razor blades stashed away, and would look at them whenever the thoughts were overwhelming. But when push came to shove she always put them away in the end. As much as she wanted a release, preferably permanent, for the ever increasing pressure in her mind and heart, she was too chicken to do anything to herself. Although she would admit an accident would be perfectly acceptable. But she'd never be so lucky as to get an out that easily.

"Oh so you _are_ still here. I thought you left and was kinda upset 'cause I kinda liked listening to you play the piano."

Yuka whirled around, hands sliding smoothly behind her back to hide what now felt like incriminating evidence. Her expression remained neutral as she studied the boy leaning through the open window, who was also staring down at her. Slowly she found her way into a standing position and at eye level with the boy.

"You startled me, Uchiha-san," she commented dully. The boy made a face at her formality and waved it away like it was a disgusting smell. His almond shaped eyes scrunched tightly together, coal black hair spiking up in such an unruly way it made her wonder if he even bothered to comb it, or if it was just naturally that way- like her own hair. (Her thoughts ruefully found their way to the one particular curl on top of her head and she almost made a face of her own.) He grinned though and opened his eyes again. They shined like black jade even though they weren't facing the light.

"Aw come on _Class Rep_ , I know you know my name. It's okay to call me by it. Just don't use any honorifics unless you're gonna call me - _sama_!" He winked but she felt no desire to return his playfulness. Being in this particular student's presence was a jarring way to bring into focus just how much energy she really lacked.

"Alright, Obito...san," For a brief moment Yuka struggled with accommodating his request and flat out ignoring the rules of etiquette, or ignoring his request and following through with ingrained habit. Needless to say ingrained habit won. Obito pursed his lips in a small pout, but quickly shook it off and leaned casually against the windowsill.

Yuka fidgeted, unsure of how to handle him in this situation. From vague moments that she actually paid attention to her peers she remembered that this particular student was a loud and boisterous person. He was also friends with the male counterpart of the class representative, Kakashi Hatake. But beyond that she didn't really know much about him.

"How long have you been playing the piano, Yuka-chan?" She blinked at his bold usage of the honorific. It appeared that he was trying to make a point to her. Pretty clever, she supposed.

Yuka glanced briefly at the piano before returning her attention to him. His diligent pursuance of conversation is startling. "Since I was seven. Have you played the piano before?"

Obito shrugged and shook his hand back and forth like he was rocking a boat. "Gram has a piano, but I've never played a legitimate song on it. Always thought it'd be fun to though."

She didn't question the name he had given, it wasn't any of her business anyways. It was most likely just a relative. Instead she responded with a polite nod of acknowledgement to his answer. The silence quickly overtook the conversation and she found that she was unsure of how to pursue any more of it, not that she held any desire to do so. After all, he was just as much of a stranger to her as she was to him.

A bell tolled with what seemed like muted volume to her ears, signifying the end of the lunch period. Obito pulled away from the window and raised his hand in farewell. A light hearted smile tugged his lips and he saluted to her, body already turning to go.

"Well, I'll see you back in class," He away completely and began to walk off. His actions halted as he cast her a backwards glance. "Oh, and I hope you keep playing the piano. You're really good at it and I think it sounds beautiful."

Her eyes widened just a fraction, the sincerity in his words and soft, tender smile filling her with surprise quicker than water could fill a bowl. Heat rushed unbidden in response to the sudden emotion, her cheeks warming up hotter than a fever, if that were possible. Obito finally turned away and left her alone. A slight breeze tugged playfully at her limp hair in his wake, even cooling her flushed skin a little. Without realizing it, her grip on the shard of glass loosened and it fell to the floor with a slight chime.

The sound broke the figurative spell such moments have claimed to place on people like herself. Yuka blinked and stared down at the clear item laying like a discarded puzzle piece, kneeling slowly and gingerly picking it up. The action drained her and left a hollow pin the center of her chest and mind. Anything felt mere moments ago vanished too quickly for her to get a good taste of. She looked over to the closet and stretched to return the glass to its hiding place before standing yet again, robotically smoothing out her skirt.

Yuka turned on her heel and returned to the piano, snatching her bag off the seat and neatly swinging it over her shoulders. Unintentionally, her eyes drifted over the clean keys of the piano. Her left hand grazed one of them and a soft sound shivered from within the instrument.

 _You're really good at it and I think it sounds beautiful._

The hollowness faded to a peaceful cotton. She didn't necessarily feel better, she hadn't felt "better" for a long, long time, but it was a state of contentment where she could simply _drift_. Just drift and not be expected to think too deeply or feel anything for the sake of feeling. Almost like a form of ignorant bliss.

It had been awhile since she had heard a compliment and felt it was genuine.

Yuka turned and walked away from the piano, a slightly stronger feeling of wholeness dominating her mindset.

Perhaps two negatives really do equal a positive.

 **[+=+]**


	2. 2 Positives Will Equal Another Positive

As a general rule school was hardly considered an enjoyable place, even Obito had to concur with that. The lessons could get boring, and the days could drag on, and don't even get him started on the _homework_. Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever be able graduate and get away from the uniforms and rules. But for every negative he tried his best to counter with a positive. It was one of his many mottos that he tried to live his life by. So while school could be a pain, there were also things to actually look forward to. If it weren't for his friends he's not sure how well he'd survive, and not every day was long and exhausting, and some teachers wouldn't even bother with homework so that was always a plus.

In the book of Obito Uchiha a plus was always a good sign, so he tried to make sure that he put a plus in someone else's book too. He wasn't too shy to run errands for a teacher if they looked busy, he would tell jokes if someone was having a rough day just to get them to smile a little, and he did his best to be a good example when it came to his all time favorite sport: Baseball. All in all he liked to think of himself a well rounded person, socially speaking of course.

Academic wise… Well, he'd just rather not think about that. There are some things he's just not cut out for, and Math would be one of them. Being on time would be another.

There were few times in his life he could ever move so quickly: When he's playing Baseball, when he's late for school, or when the latest edition of his favorite manga or anime is released. In this case it was school. From the moment he woke up knew he was going to be late. He bolted out of bed and threw on the nearest discarded uniform, racing out of his room and out into the kitchen to swipe an easy breakfast and his school bag. He barely even managed to get a goodbye out to his grandmother, Gram for short. He ran out of his house and into the warming morning air.

And he ran and ran like the hounds of hell were at his heels. He ran up streets and through not quite yet busy cross roads, cutting through a playground and taking the back way through a small forest in order to cut out half of his distance. Gram certainly wouldn't be happy about the state of his clothes when he got home, but so long as no holes were produced then he'll get away with his life. Within what felt like a few seconds he could see the closing gates of his school. He put everything he had into his legs just to sprint the final leg of the journey. But once he started, it was exceedingly _difficult_ to stop without some sort of outer interference.

' _They say Redbull gives you wings, but clearly they've never experienced the panic of being late to school!'_ he thought to himself just before he tripped over the threshold of the building.

Obito was sent sprawling, a painful backwards somersault bringing him to a complete halt. A few students that were lingering around the lockers snickered at him as he picked himself up with a groan.

"Ten out of ten, Uchiha-san!" someone hollered. He grinned despite the prickling heat gnawing the tips of his ears, brushing his front off and moving down the row of lockers to his own. Feeling around in his pockets, he procured a small black watch that has somehow miraculously survived all of his stunts and checked the time. To his amazement the time revealed that he had arrived shortly after the tardy bell. But by no means did that mean he was out of hot water yet. There was still his first period teacher to fear after all.

A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of the possible detention he could be receiving the moment he walked into class. If he hurried though he might be able to avoid the worst of it. Despite being a stickler about being on time, Hiashi-sensei was a relatively easy man to work around. Being the Homeroom teacher made things a little easier as well. Still, it didn't mean he could dawdle all day.

He stopped in front of his small locker and opened it. The last thing he had been expecting was for a note to fall out and hit the floor with an odd little _tak!_ Surprised, Obito knelt down and grabbed the little index card. A grey smudge streaked across what otherwise would have been a pristine white back, and for a moment it captivated and confused him. But the moment passed him by and he disregarded any thoughts concerning why someone would pointlessly marr one blank side of paper in favor of what could possibly have been on the other. Flipping it over revealed that there wasn't much to talk about either; just two words of gratitude and a small hard candy taped at the corner. There wasn't even a name or initial to indicate who it came from.

Obito grinned though. He had no idea who it was that had left the note, or what it was he had done that deserved thanking, but it created a warm glow to fill his chest. Someone had taken the plus he had put in their book to heart and had sought to return the favor.

He plucked the candy off the paper and unwrapped it, popping it in his mouth. Syrupy orange, a perfect harmony of bitter and sweet, filled his mouth. The card disappeared into his pocket along with the watch while he slipped his shoes off. Quickly he swapped his pair for the school's pair before shutting the locker and jogging away to get to class, occasionally stopping to tap his shoes into place along the way.

So despite being late, and now most definitely going to incur some of Hiashi-sensei's wrath, he felt that no matter what happened, the rest of the day would always be looking up.

 **[+=+]**

"Hey, numbskull, are you even listening?" A light, but sharp, rap on his head startled him away from lazy thoughts. Obito looked over at his friend Kakashi with a blank slate for a mind. The silver haired boy sighed and muttered something under his breath. Beside him Rin, a simple young woman, giggled slightly behind her hand. Heat rose to the call and bloomed in his cheeks, burning so badly that he was forced to look away from what almost screamed an angelic mural to him.

What did he do to deserve falling in love with someone so cute?

Obito scoffs, easing himself back against a tree while lacing his hands behind his head. "Yeah, yeah I heard ya. There's all this commotion about the Sports Festival coming up and you hate organizing teams. This also leads you to the realization that you actually hate your job as class rep and wish to pass the mantle on to me, right?"

Halfway through his spiel he had closed his eyes and was basking in his own humor, but he had to reap the rewards as well. Obito snuck a peek at his friend, opening one eye, and grinned at the results. Nothing really beat Kakashi's ability to make a person wither with just a single look. Obito snickered and closed his eye again. Of course he'd never really be a class rep; students were chosen by popular vote after volunteering. He always came just a little shy of beating Kakashi when it came down to it, but it was for the better anyhow. Kakashi's work ethic was by far superior to his own.

"I don't know _how_ you managed to surmise all that based on the fact that I only asked you if your team was going to be having a game during the Festival," Kakashi said with a flicker of irritation, the sound of papers being shuffled disrupting the natural banter. "Though I will admit that arranging the different teams for the guys' events is more of a chore than it should be. It makes me wonder what Setsuna-san's secret to handling it all so quietly is."

Rin hummed thoughtfully in response. "You know, I've noticed that she's never _not_ doing something. I think she tries to use up all of her time being productive. And she just seems so organized! Hey, maybe we should get you a planner Kakashi!"

Obito remained quiet, nodding his head in absent agreement to what Rin had suggested. He always felt awkward whenever the other class rep's last name was used. He believed in formalities only for a short while, and would much rather use their first name over their last if given the option. In Yuka Setsuna's case, however, he had never once referred to her as ' _Setsuna-san_ '. Obito absolutely _refused_ to address her by it. It left a bad taste in his mouth just thinking about it. He could never understand the sick humor some people possessed when naming their children…

 _Yuka, a depressed flower; Setsuna, to last only for a moment._

Briefly he wondered if that was something that attributed to making her seem so grey. Even as he reflected on the person herself he couldn't seem to recall a clear image, despite having seen her fairly recently. The girl barely seemed to hold attention, unlike Kakashi. The only thing that really stuck to him was the echo of a sobering melody.

As Kakashi and Rin continued to discuss the merits and downfalls of a planner, Obito was lulled into a drowsy stupor. Lazily he began to hum the tune he had heard Yuka play the day before. It had started off slow, picking up as it progressed until it almost felt like he was riding along on the swells of the sea itself. His fingers twitched as he imagined where they would go, how they would fall on the keys of the piano. It had sounded like an easy song to play, but he knew that songs which could describe such emotional complexity without using words were anything but. Not to mention he wasn't gifted enough to play more than a few made up songs on the piano, though that didn't mean he had never been curious to learn how.

It was about halfway through the song that he realized he was humming to something completely different. Confused, he stopped humming and tried to backtrack to the moment that he had changed tunes. However, when the music still continues to play, only then does he understand what happened.

Obito sat upright and turned in his spot. About ten paces away he spotted the open window to the music room. His imagination supplied little music notes floating out from the window through the air blithely, slowly changing colors like bubbles moving under different lights. He stood up then, earning curious questions from his friends which he promptly ignored, and took a stroll towards the music room. When he got close to the window he ducked down and sat just underneath it. He rested his head against the wall, his arms hanging on his knees, and a small smile on his face.

He hadn't been lying when he had told her he thought she played beautifully. Obito would have had to have been _deaf_ , with no offense to those that actually are, to not recognize the power she wielded so deftly. There was no denying that he was the kind of guy that would jump at any opportunity to go play ball, but it was people with the kind of skill which Yuka possessed that made him feel like being _musical_.

While he was busy sailing through the ecstasy of emotion and sound his friends came over to join him. On his left he sensed Kakashi and on his right, much closer to him, he sensed Rin sitting down. Obito resisted the urge to peek at her, to watch her reaction to the sounds and see her marvel, instead deigning to focus with his sense of hearing. The music reached a crescendo before drifting at a quiet lull. Listening to it reminded him a little bit of a song by John Legend, "All of Me", and yet it was unique in its own way.

Another rise in the delicate notes came crashing over him and he felt warm, empowered. It made him think of falling down and then looking up to see someone holding their hand out to help him stand up again. But with the image came an echo, no, a plea. Almost as if the pianist were asking for someone to be there to help her up…

Silence overcame him and he opened his eyes. Sunlight blinded him, turning his surroundings into a photo which received too much exposure. He blinked quickly to rid himself of the momentary malfunction just before standing up to turn and lean casually against the window sill. He crossed his right ankle behind his left and rested gingerly on his elbows, clapping.

Yuka flinched, her fingers slipping off the keys and letting loose a brief moment of discordance into the air. Grey eyes peered at him warily through lightly puffed bangs. Oddly enough his mind wandered towards Corn Puffs, one of his favorite brands of cereals. Maybe it was just the color of her hair. It was a nice, light golden color- depending on the lighting it could even look a little white.

"Encore! Encore!" he cheered. Yuka clasped her hands together in her lap and dipped her head ever so slightly towards him, her lips working over time to form words to which no sound would come. A light dusting of pink trailed along her face and she looked everywhere but at him.

"Ah, uh, thanks," she mumbled. Finally her gaze found a place to remain, stubbornly on the hands in her lap. He found it a little strange, but chalked it up to shy humbleness.

"Another inspiring performance again, Yuka-chan. Do you plan to become a professional after you graduate?"

Yuka started to shake her head but stopped halfway through with a confused shrug. She began to rub her thumb viciously against the side of her knuckle. She quickly stopped once she realized what she was going and separated her hands, laying them neatly side by side on her lap. An angry red spot disrupted the smooth paleness of her skin tone. She seemed nervous, but about what he couldn't exactly place his finger on.

"Did…," Yuka spoke up, sounding a little strangled with confliction. "Was the candy alright?"

Obito's brow furrowed in confusion. _Candy? Candy, candy, candy… Oh right!_

A grin spread from ear to ear. So it was _her_ that left him the letter? Warm giddiness cascaded over him, feeling better than summer rain. Yuka was really thoughtful to return his kindness with some of her own. "It was good, orange is one of my favorites. What about you? Do you like orange flavored candy?"

She gave another, smaller confused shrug. A tiny troubled shadow formed on her face, but before he could fully question it, it vanished. He lightly shook his head, reaching up to muss his hair and dispel any tricks his mind had been trying to play on him. The bell tolled and his shoulders slumped. Obito sighed in defeat. Another conversation ruined by the bell and awkward silence yet again…

He looked down to his left at Rin and reared his head back slightly in surprise at the wild gestures she was trying to communicate to him without using any words. It's a good thing for him that charades was practically a second language to him. Babysitting his cousins had turned him into a pro.

Rin drew a weird squiggle with a little dot at the end. _Ask…_

Then she pointed at the wall repeatedly, occasionally moving it up and over as if she were jumping the window sill. _Yuka…_

She made a couple of grabbing motions towards herself and then used her deixis to indicate all three of them. For extra emphasis she added some c'mere gestures as well. _To join us…_

Finally she pretended to be taking a bite out of something. _Food…_

 _Ask Yuka to join us for lunch! Brilliant idea Rin, you're so smart!_ He internally swooned at the geniusness of her plan. Obito looked up and saw that Yuka was already standing with her bag slung over her shoulders. She swayed towards the door, but remained rooted in place solely because of good manners.

"Yuka-chan do you wanna come have lunch with me and some friends tomorrow?" he asked eagerly. The girl blinked, taken aback with surprise at the sudden offer. For a moment she remained utterly still, a deer caught in headlights. No, actually that made her sound guilty, he decided. She was more like a frozen statue. Eternally stuck, maybe. But before he could run away with the metaphors she moved, almost like an old toy that hadn't been oiled in ages, nodding her in consent. He smiled at her.

"Alright, then it's a deal. Oh, tomorrow is Potluck Wednesday, so if you want to you can bring stuff for everyone else," Seeing her confused expression he hurried on to explain. "Every Wednesday we have a Pot Luck just for fun, and so we can have a picnic at school basically."

Her mechanical nod made another appearance again, this time with minor understanding. Yuka turned to go, an anxious hop to her stride as she tried to balance manners with desires. He took the cue and stepped back from the window with a wave. She scurried over to the door, opening it and passing over the threshold like a frightened mouse into her hole. Just before she closed the door, however, she shyly returned his wave.

Rin and Kakashi stood up, the latter stretching with an audible groan at having sat curled up against the wall for so long. Obito snickered at his friend before walking back to the tree they had been sitting at earlier to retrieve his things.

"Guess we'll be having a new friend join us tomorrow, eh?" he called out behind him. He shook his head more in an effort to release welling excitement. Though he hardly knew Yuka, he felt that a friendship with her would be worthwhile.

 **[+=+]**

"Welcome back _mago_ ," his grandmother called from what sounded like the kitchen. He could smell dinner wafting through the air and his mouth began to water. Obito slipped his shoes off at the entry way and walked further into his home, diverging momentarily down a hall to drop his bag off in his room and change into something more comfortable than his uniform. After changing he left his room and promptly went into the kitchen to help Gram out with dinner, only to get ushered into a seat at the small table.

Gram whisked around the kitchen, pulling plates and small bowls from the cupboards and piling them with food. Despite her age she was fairly youthful in spirit and able to accomplish much on her own, but even so she couldn't hide the signs of her arthritis as she handed him a loaded plate. He eyed her wrists as she rubbed them, words of scolding ready to go on his lips when she noticed and gave him a wink. She pushed grey hair, tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, out of her face and sat down with a straight back. Together they clapped their hands and thanked the gods for the meal.

While they ate Gram engaged in casual chit chat about his day.

"How are Kakashi-kun and Rin-chan doing?" She asked, prodding at her food before shoveling it onto her spoon and taking a healthy bite.

He grinned and swallowed what was in his mouth. "Kakashi was lowkey complaining about the Sports Festival today, 'cause he's gotta arrange the teams for the boys, and Rin-chan was awesome as usual. She came up with the idea to invite Yuka-chan to join us for our Potluck tomorrow."

Gram cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? Who is this Yuka, I don't think you've ever mentioned her before."

"She's the other class rep. I haven't really talked to her all that much, but yesterday I found out that she could play the piano." A sparkle glitters brightly in his eyes as he remembered things he wanted to tell his grandmother. "Gram she's _amazing_. When she plays it makes _me_ , the sports guy, want to make music!"

Obito went onto to describe in detail the kind of emotion he felt when he had heard Yuka play the piano, both the first and the second time. Gram nodded her head with a soft smile growing on her wrinkly face. Suddenly it hit him that her attention was on him and he felt a bit self-conscious for rambling even though he knew that she never really minded. It was just one of those odd things that he felt was awkward about as a teenager. Heat ran amok in his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

Gram chuckled and dipped her head to pay attention to her food. "Sounds like you've made another good friend. You'll have to bring her over sometime with the others so I can meet her."

The old woman nodded in approval and tucked in to her meal. Obito briefly reflected upon the request before coming to the conclusion that it'd be a good goal to work towards. He got the impression that Yuka wasn't very good with social interactions, so having her meet Gram right off the bat probably wouldn't make her happy. But eventually he was certain she'd warm up, and after that he was absolutely positive she'd love his grandmother. Everyone loved Gram after all.

Content with the state of affairs he returned to his meal with great gusto.

 **[+=+]**

* * *

 _To be honest I don't know if Obito's grandmother actually ever made an appearance in the anime, as I haven't bothered to watch past episode something or other in Shippuden because the fillers were giving me migraines, so I don't really know what kind of personality she has or what she looks like. So in a way I'm making his grandmother OC. Anyways, after a delay that you can blame on school I have finally managed to produce another chapter. This one actually lightened my mood a bit, but then again writing basically anything in Obito's POV usually does that..._ _Until next time,_

 _-Yopū Yuna_


End file.
